


Confined Spaces

by NerdyGrlWonder



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Good versus Evil, Katrina as an actually useful character, Pre Relationship, Romance, some smut, stuck together, tiny spaces, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:17:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2696084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyGrlWonder/pseuds/NerdyGrlWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie stared at Crane’s pained face and thought about the ridiculous situation that they found themselves in and burst out laughing. It felt like marbles were rolling around in her head as she did so, but if she didn’t laugh, she’d probably lose her cool so, laugh she did.<br/>Ichabod looked at Abbie oddly. He was concerned that her head injury was worse than he had imagined. He’d never seen her hysterical especially when they found themselves in such a precarious situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confined Spaces

**Author's Note:**

> This was a tumblr prompt from briony-in-the-nettles. She wanted to see my OTP trapped/hiding in a very tight space. I wrote this based off of that prompt but I think I may have to take it a step or two further...

“Lieutenant. Lieutenant, can you hear me?”

Abbie could feel a warm body beneath her pounding head and a soft hand against her cheek. Her left shoulder ached and her arm had gone numb. She could hear a slow drip of water somewhere and her clothes felt damp.

“Abbie! Abbie, please wake up. Please!”

The soft hand repeatedly tapped her face and she flinched from the pain that radiated from the gentle touch to the pain in her head.

“I’m awake Crane. Please stop hitting me.”

Abbie pried her eyes open to find that she was firmly ensconced on Ichabod’s lap. And by firmly ensconced, she meant ass-to-crotch, I can feel everything, stuck on his lap. Her legs were bent at the knee but pressed against a damp brick wall. Even if she could muster the strength, she wasn’t going to be moving any time soon.

Light filtered in from above them through tall trees, casting an eerie green hue to their tiny prison. Lifting her head to assess the situation they found themselves in, Abbie could see that they were at what appeared to be the bottom of a very snug dry well.

The last thing she consciously remembered was fighting with members of the New Hellfire Club. She and Crane were trying to retrieve a book of spells that Moloch needed to raise the third Horseman. She vaguely remembered hearing Ichabod call out her name and then everything went blank. Now, she found herself glued to his lap in a dank well in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t until she took in her surroundings that she finally dared to look at Ichabod.

“I’m glad you’re alright. I was worried that…” He swallowed hard, his face mere inches from hers. He flexed his hands, suddenly unsure where a safe spot to put them would be. “Your head struck the bricks when they tossed you in. I tried to catch you but there is very little space down here. I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up.”

Ichabod’s face swam in front of front of Abbie’s eyes until she was forced to clamp them closed.

“I feel like hell. I just want to go back to sleep.”

“No!”

Ichabod’s voice reverberated off of the walls of the cramped space, attacking Abbie’s head from all sides like knives slicing through her skull. Grabbing her head, she released an involuntary whimper. She just wanted the pain to stop.

“My apologies, Lieutenant.” Ichabod gently touched the side of her head where the gash had finally stopped seeping. “I didn’t mean to shout.”

“It’s alright, Crane. Just keep the volume to a minimum okay.”

“Of course. I promise, so long as you promise not to fall asleep again.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Ichabod kept his hands placed on the walls, as far away from Abbie as he could manage. His long, lanky legs ached from sitting in such a strange position for so long with Abbie’s weight on top of him but he couldn’t bear asking her to move. He tried to subtly shift his weight. The moment he did so, he knew it was a bad idea. All he succeeded in doing was pressing himself further into the Lieutenant’s behind.

Her eyes snapped open at the sensation.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…that is to say, I wasn’t trying to…”

Abbie stared at Crane’s pained face and thought about the ridiculous situation that they found themselves in and burst out laughing. It felt like marbles were rolling around in her head as she did so, but if she didn’t laugh, she’d probably lose her cool so, laugh she did.

Ichabod looked at Abbie oddly. He was concerned that her head injury was worse than he had imagined. He’d never seen her hysterical especially when they found themselves in such a precarious situation.

“Lieutenant?”

“The look….on…your…face…” Abbie couldn’t stop laughing. Ichabod was still confused as to her reaction, but hearing her laugh warmed him to his core. She was alright. Right now, that’s all that mattered. He could ignore the numbness in his limbs and the pain slowly eating away at his back as long as his Lieutenant was alive and well. A smile found its way to his face before he too was laughing with her.

It was a couple of minutes before she could stop laughing but once she did, she saw how Ichabod was sitting and immediately felt awful.

“How long have we been down here?”

“Judging by the angle of the sun now as to where it was when we were first dropped here, I’d wager we’ve been down here for an hour. Maybe two.”

Abbie looked at where they were. It couldn’t have been much more than five by five in space. Ichabod’s legs were contorted at an odd angle and here she was, adding more pressure to his body. He needed to shift position and if she was honest with herself, so did she. He wouldn’t like what was coming next, but she was going to suggest it anyway.

“Crane we’re both uncomfortable but we can’t both move in this space so I’m going to make a suggestion.”

He did not like the look on her face. Partially because she had that look that suggested whatever she was about to say would probably make him highly uncomfortable. The other, more worrisome reason was that the color was draining from her face and she seemed to be wobbling where she sat.

“I’m going to stand up long enough for you to stretch your legs and back and then I’m going to straddle your lap.”

Ichabod sputtered. _Did she just suggest straddling me?_ “Miss Mills, while I appreciate your concern, such a move would be highly…”

“We can’t sit like this forever.”

“Maybe if we were to both stand up to stretch…”

Abbie sighed. Why was it always a battle with him? There were times when his propriety and chivalry were adorable. This was not one of those times.

“Crane, my head is spinning. At most, I’ll be able to give you a minute to stretch before I collapse or black out. Either way, I’d wind up back in your lap and probably in a much more uncomfortable position. Basically, it’s this or nothing.”

He knew she was right of course. He wanted both of them to be comfortable but he was terrified. He’d been wrestling with his feelings for Lieutenant Mills since the succubus had revealed herself to him as Abbie. What if he thought too much about the feel of her pressed against him and mortified both of them by his state of arousal?

Judging by the intensifying sway and pallor that was falling over Miss Mills, he assumed only he’d be mortified. She’s be unconscious; a risk that he couldn’t take. He could not lose her. Not now, not ever.

“Very well. Proceed quickly but carefully and I will try to adjust as much as possible.”

It was awkward and painful. Having not moved from their positions for so long, it took time for their limbs to cooperate. Crane lent his hands to Abbie as leverage to stand. She managed to get one foot between his legs before she had to brace herself against the well wall to slow the whirling rush in her head. She distantly thought she heard Crane’s voice calling out to her.

“I’m alright.”

He knew she wasn’t. His Lieutenant was nothing if not tenacious. She could be gravely injured and still fight on if it meant protecting others – even if she was just protecting their feelings. He stretched and adjusted as much as he could before helping Abbie move.

She already had one foot, angled oddly, outside his left leg. She just needed to get her other foot on the outside. That was easier said than done. It was taking all of her energy to stay upright let alone move.

“Lieutenant, twist and lean down towards me, then swing your leg over to the other side.”

“I don’t think I can.”

Ichabod reached his arms up to encircle her tiny waist. He wasn’t sure of the trembling he felt was his own hands or the lieutenant’s exhausted body. Still using the walls to support herself, Abbie began to slowly negotiate getting her leg to the outside of Ichabod’s. That’s all that she managed before her strength gave out and she started to fall. Had it not been for his steadying hands around her waist, she would have collapsed in a heap on top of him.

“Lieutenant? Lieutenant?”

Abbie managed to let a weak groan out to let him know she was still with him, but even that small sound took the wind out of her. Ichabod gingerly placed the un-gashed side of Abbie’s head in the crook of his neck and began to softly run his hands through her hair. A sigh of relief escaped unbidden from Abbie’s lips as she began to sink further and further into Crane’s arms.

“Are you still with me, Miss Mills?”

“I’m here. Talk to me please. Keep me awake.”

So Ichabod began to regale her of his childhood antics. Stories of how he tried his mother’s patience, learned at his father’s knee, or flirted with young maidens in town fell from his lips as he tried his best to keep Abbie alert and with him.

Time became an abstract concept. Ichabod wasn’t sure when his free hand had slid down Abbie’s form to rest firmly against the curve of her hip. Abbie didn’t know how her the thumb of her right hand wound up stroking the base of Ichabod’s beard or how her index finger wound up curling loose strands of his hair.

Ichabod’s hands began to roam the curves of Abbie’s frame. He thought he felt the tip of her tongue lightly graze his tongue but he couldn’t be sure. Abbie could feel Ichabod’s heart race beneath her free hand and his breathing increase. At some point, their touches turned from comforting to caresses.

Abbie pulled her head back from Ichabod’s neck and locked her gaze on his. His eyes moved from hers to her lips as he licked his own. Inches. They were mere inches away from each other when Jenny and Frank’s disembodied voices could be heard calling their names from above.

It took some time, but Frank and Jenny were able to hoist them both from the well and get both of them the medical attention they needed. That night, they both lay awake in their own beds, replaying what almost happened and what could have been.


	2. No Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She hears thunder and screaming in the distance. Someone calls out to her but she tries harder and harder to hide – to flee the weight that is slowly crushing her soul. She felt hands gripping her and wanted to fight them off but couldn’t muster the energy.
> 
> Please let me go. Just let me die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while to come up with this. I wasn't initially trying to tie into the show but it feels more organic when I do. The 1st chapter took place somewhere between "Heartless" and "Magnum Opus". This one takes place immediately following "The Akeda". There's more to come!
> 
> I don't own Sleepy Hollow or any of the characters therein.

Time is a blessing. It can allow emotions, raw and unchecked, the ability to sort themselves out. It can help alleviate confusion and soothe the ache of loss. For Abbie and Ichabod, it was both a blessing and a curse. It blessed them with the gift of rational thought after their well incident but it cursed them the inability to even address the elephant in the room.

Too much had happened. Too much loss had been experienced. They went from intimately close, on the cusp of the forbidden, to adventurers hunting down a fabled sword – to a battle for the ages. They’d lost a member of their family in Frank Irving. So much had happened that after all of the time they spent unable to talk about the definition of their relationship, neither knew where to begin.

Abbie lay curled in on herself as the sun broke through her windows. She couldn’t remember how they had all gotten home after Henry had turned the sword of Methuselah on Moloch. She couldn’t even remember how they had all gotten down from the charred trees. There seemed to be gaps from that night. The only clear memories were of deciding to tell Macey and Cynthia about Frank.

“We should wait until the morning.” Jenny could see that Abbie wasn’t completely present. It was as if the person in front of her was simply a shell.

“No. They need to know. They need to know all of it.”

“Let us come with you.” Ichabod stepped forward, reaching out to comfort her but she side-stepped it. She saw Katrina hovering just behind him and felt ice swell in her veins, hardening her heart against any more pain. She could see pain and confusion etched on his face but at that moment, his feelings meant as much to her as his empty platitudes and promises. She just needed to get away.

“No. I’ve got this.”

The drive to New York is a blur; the walk to their brownstone a whisper in time. The image of Cynthia and Macey huddled together in tears in the middle of the night attacks her senses and makes it hard to breathe. She tries to retreat as far away from the memories as she can, but they kept coming.

Cynthia wailing, shaking Abbie and blaming her for all that had happened. Tears had fallen silently down her face. She couldn’t deny it. Had she not rescued Crane, had she gone onto Quantico, had she just kept her head down, none of this would have happened.

Her mother had died for her. Her sister had rotted in prison cells and institution after institution just to keep her safe. Corbin guided her only to lose his life to protect her. Ichabod had ventured to Purgatory to save her. It was all her fault.

She couldn’t see that what had happened was preordained. She couldn’t see how anything would ever feel right again. Images of Crane flew behind her eyes. She shut them, trying to keep more pain at bay, but it was no use.

She saw him reaching for her, holding her and making promises. She saw him looking back as he left her in Purgatory, kissing Katrina and catering to her in a way that he never had and never will cater to her. An unrestrained cry escapes her unbidden and the dam of emotion within her shatters, issuing forth a flood of tears that she can’t escape.

She hears thunder and screaming in the distance. Someone calls out to her but she tries harder and harder to hide – to flee the weight that is slowly crushing her soul. She felt hands gripping her and wanted to fight them off but couldn’t muster the energy.

_Please let me go. Just let me die._

She’s only conscious of thinking this – she doesn’t realize she’s said it aloud.

“Abbie! Abbie! Please come back to me. Stay with me.” Ichabod screams and he cradles her to his chest – panic and fear welling up inside of him.


	3. Return from the Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wretched cry broke through the eerie silence of the apartment and emanated from Abbie’s bedroom. Under normal circumstances, Ichabod would never barge in on a woman’s boudoir, especially not hers, but the visceral need to make sure Abbie was alright overrode any and all propriety.
> 
> He found her, curled into a tiny tight ball on her bed wearing the same clothes she had from the night of the battle. Tree bark and small leaves still clung on in her hair. Rushing to her side, he picked her up, her body limp in his arms. Her face and chest were soaked in tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a direct continuation of the previous chapter. Hang on for a bumpy ride. More to come soon!

It had been two days. Two days that he hadn’t heard from or seen her. He had called dozens of times. On the first day, he called to share the load of grief that they both were feeling. He needed to talk to her, to let her know it was going to be okay. When she didn’t return his calls, a nagging feeling began to creep in.

“She probably just needs time, my love.” Katrina tried to calm his fears. She tried to rub his aching shoulders but he shrugged her off. He had not forgotten the conversation that they had and fully meant to leave her and their sham of a marriage behind him. She was his love no longer. That title was reserved only for Abbie now.

Katrina could feel the ice of him shutting her out in the cold but still stood firm.

“Give her time. At least until the evening. Everyone grieves in their own way.”

Reluctantly, he heeded her words. The Abbie he knew pushed through the pain to keep fighting but this – this was something he was afraid may break her. It turned out that he had been right. He tried calling her again that first night with no response. By midnight, he was wound up and ready to walk the miles to check on her. Again, Katrina bade him wait.

Furious at Katrina, scared for Abbie, and confused as to what to do, he stayed in the cabin – somehow knowing it was the wrong thing to do. He slept fitfully on the couch, his long legs hanging over the side - images of the battle replaying in his mind.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw the light leave Captain Irving’s eyes and heard his own voice try to keep him on this Earthly plane. He would awake with a start, bathed in sweat every time he saw Abbie fall, afraid he’d lost her forever. He saw the anguish in her eyes over the loss of Irving but more worrying was the vacant look in her eyes as she left them that night.

On the second day after little sleep, he tried her again. There was still no answer. The dread that had first arrived the day before exploded into panic. Katrina emerged from the bedroom to find Ichabod pacing, his hair a mess of tangles. He barely acknowledged her presence; he just kept staring at his phone.

She had been willing to try to reconcile now that Moloch was gone but seeing him in this state over Miss Mills proved that whatever passion they had once shared had been gone long before their argument on the night of the battle. His passions had been transferred – whether he knew it or not – to his partner. The knowledge opened a chasm in her, dark and deep. She couldn’t yet place the sensation but she could hear a distant roar within her.

Fear was about to devour him whole when he punched in the numbers to contact Miss Jenny.

“ _Crane. Is everything okay?”_

“Miss Jenny, I’m loathing to bother you but have you heard from your sister?”

_“No I haven’t. I was actually going to head over to her place this morning to check on her. She was freaking me out a bit the other night.”_

“I have a terrible feeling. I know it’s out of your way but would you please…”

_“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”_

Ichabod rushed past Katrina to get himself ready absentmindedly telling her he was going to check on Miss Mills with Miss Jenny.

“I want to come as well.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“Though we made an agreement to suspend our marriage Ichabod, it doesn’t mean that I don’t still love and care for you. Seeing you in this much pain over the wellbeing of your friend tortures me.” Katrina moved closer to him but left him enough space so that he would know she wasn’t seeking anything else from him.

“Please. If all is well, then the better for it. If nothing else, I can at least cast a spell to quell some of her grief.”

A curt nod was all he could spare. Truly, he didn’t want Katrina there when he tried to comfort Miss Mills, but if she was able to do anything to assuage some of the pain she was in – though the suggestion was a dubious one at best – he’d take it. He was just pulling on his boots when Miss Jenny honked the car horn, alerting him to her presence.

He rushed from the cabin, Katrina in his wake. Somehow he knew he needed to reach her before it was too late.

*          *          *

 

Had it not been for Jenny, they would have had to break down the door. Out of respect of her sister’s grief and personal space, Jenny had insisted on knocking. They knew Abbie was home, her Jeep sat in the driveway. After five minutes of knocking, Ichabod was practically ripping the door off of the hinges.

“Something is amiss. We need to get in there!”

“Cool it Crane! I’ve got a key. Just move and I can let us in.”

Jenny opened the door, calling out to her sister while doing so. “Abbie! Abbie it’s me, Crane and Katrina. You okay?”

When there was no answer, Crane pushed past Jenny calling out as well. A wretched cry broke through the eerie silence of the apartment and emanated from Abbie’s bedroom. Under normal circumstances, Ichabod would never barge in on a woman’s boudoir, especially not hers, but the visceral need to make sure Abbie was alright overrode any and all propriety.

He found her, curled into a tiny tight ball on her bed wearing the same clothes she had from the night of the battle. Tree bark and small leaves still clung on in her hair. Rushing to her side, he picked her up, her body limp in his arms. Her face and chest were soaked in tears.

He sat there cradling her to his chest. Her eyes were glazed over with a vacant haze. A threadbare whisper emerged from her parched lips.

_Please let me go. Just let me die._

Anxiety gripped his heart in a vice. He was barely able to breath. She couldn’t leave him. He refused to let go of her.

“Abbie! Abbie! Please come back to me. Stay with me.”

He repeated it over and over like a mantra – rocking her back and forth and gently shaking her to bring her out of her trance. He caressed her tear-stained face, adding his own tears to the mix. She felt so frail in his arms he was positive that she was slowly drifting away from him.

Jenny tried to grab her from him but he fought her off. He hear both she and Katrina trying to reason with him but all rational thought left him as Abbie’s body lay slumped in his arms.

“Ichabod let her go! I can help her but you have to put her down quickly!”

Jenny and Katrina’s hands pulled Abbie from his embrace and they laid her back on her bed. Ichabod tried to get closer to her but Katrina pushed him away.

“She’s giving in to her grief. It’s sucking her mind into a state similar to Purgatory. If you don’t let me try to pull her out of it, I won’t be able to help her. She’ll drown in her own sorrow.”

Ichabod stepped back; allowing Katrina to do whatever it was that she could to rescue his Abbie from her grief. He fully acknowledged it then. She was _his_ Abbie. _His_. There was nothing that would stop him from telling her that.

Katrina grabbed Jenny’s hand as an anchor and began her descent into Abbie’s mind.

Abbie drifted. She was barely registering the pain anymore. It continued on but had become a part of her. Voices called out to her and chanted that she was to blame; it was all her fault. She agreed with them and as they reached out to grab her, she began to surrender.

Frank, Mama, Corbin, Cynthia and Macey all began to descend upon her but she couldn’t walk towards them. She was being pulled back. She heard two voices, familiar in tone intoning something – calling her back. The pain began anew as sharp as daggers, ripping cries from her raw throat.

She tried to fight it off; she wanted to surrender to oblivion.

_Abbie, please! Can you hear me? Please don’t leave me._

Through the haze and the agony, Abbie heard his voice. Crane was trying to reach her. She wanted to turn around, to run to his open arms but she stopped short. Why should she? He still had Katrina. He had broken too many promises. He was as complicit in everything that had happened in the last two years as she was. What good would come of returning to him? She began to fight her rescuers again.

_Abbie, my love. I cannot bare this world without you. Please…_

Something pierced her then, unleashing warmth within her after hearing his words. She gave up her fight and allowed herself to be washed in the pain anew. She saw faces swim above her as tears blurred her vision.

“Abbie? Abbie, it’s Jenny. Can you hear me?”

She wanted to answer but all she could manage was a whimper as her tears began anew. No sooner than they had begun to flow again, did her sister cry out and embrace her.

“Don’t do that to me again. Thirteen years was long enough to be without you.”

Abbie held on weakly, sobbing new tears for yet another pain she had caused.

“Crane?”

Abbie was barely able to say his name before she was enveloped in an embrace so tight, she could scarcely breathe. She leaned back slightly to look at his face.

“My love, I’m here.”

She broke down again. He pulled her into his lap like a child; her legs hanging over his. She buried her head in his chest and let all of the pain, confusion, anger and despair leave her bit by bit. She didn’t know when Jenny left and had only slightly registered Katrina’s presence to begin with. All she knew is that Crane – her Ichabod Crane – was holding her and letting her shatter in his arms.

He shattered with her, weeping for those lost – Frank, his son Henry, Katrina. He wept for Jenny not getting the chance to explore a life with a man she cared for. But most importantly, he wept for the pain and suffering that Abbie had endured on her own for so long: some of which was at his own hand.

“Never again.” He whispered over and over. He whispered so many things to her for so long until she was spent and sleeping soundly in his arms.

There was much to discuss and evils still to fight but for right now, just knowing she was alive and out of danger, was enough.

 

 


	4. A Growing Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had heard his declarations of love and devotion loud and clear even if Miss Mills hadn’t. She’d known that their marriage was broken but she didn’t think he’d be so swift to move on. Maybe he had abandoned her long before his outburst in the archives. Perhaps she shouldn’t have felt so betrayed, but she did.
> 
> That distant roaring that she had hear earlier in the day once again sounded somewhere within her. It was rising in tone – slowly climbing its way from the depths of her soul to claim her. It was dark and heavy but when she turned to the sound of her once husband calling her name, she began to embrace the darkness instead of run from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's plenty of Ichabbie but I wanted to highlight Katrina and turn her into a REAL character. I wanted to give her a depth that so far she has been lacking. There's so much more to come so please keep tuning in!

“How is she?” Jenny had stopped pacing long enough to turn towards Ichabod as he quietly exited Abbie’s room, closing the door behind him. His face was gaunt and dark bruises had formed under his eyes but a soft smile lit his face nonetheless.

“She is sleeping peacefully.”

“Thank God!” It was at that moment that Jenny finally let herself the opportunity to take in all that had happened in the last few days. Collapsing on the couch, she just stared off into the distance.

“Are you alright Miss Jenny?”

“Yeah. We knew this war wasn’t going to be easy…I guess I just never realized the cost you know?”

“Indeed.” Ichabod walked over to Jenny and laid a hand on her shoulder in solidarity. It wasn’t until he looked up that he remembered Katrina. She stood, back straight, hands fidgeting together and a distant look in her eyes as she glared at Abbie’s closed door.

She had heard his declarations of love and devotion loud and clear even if Miss Mills hadn’t. She’d known that their marriage was broken but she didn’t think he’d be so swift to move on. Maybe he had abandoned her long before his outburst in the archives. Perhaps she shouldn’t have felt so betrayed, but she did.

That distant roaring that she had hear earlier in the day once again sounded somewhere within her. It was rising in tone – slowly climbing its way from the depths of her soul to claim her. It was dark and heavy but when she turned to the sound of her once husband calling her name, she began to embrace the darkness instead of run from it.

“Katrina, I cannot thank you enough for what you did for Miss Mills. I don’t know what we would do without her.”

“Of course Ichabod. Moloch may be gone but there are still evils in the world to contend with. You are the prophesized Witnesses. How could I not help?”

Ichabod heard her words. They rang true and yet, they were hollow. Her voice and eyes held no sign of life. It was if a statue of solid ice had replaced the woman he once loved.

“Katrina…”

“Miss Jenny, I hate to impose but now that Miss Mills is out of immediate danger, if it is all right with you, would you mind taking me back to the cabin?”

They were both stunned with her dismissal of Ichabod, but Jenny was wise enough not to touch it. She wanted to stay by her sister’s side – to make sure that she truly was okay. Abbie might have been okay with the new addition to their group but she was more than a little suspicious of Katrina. That and she was resentful of becoming their errand girl.

Even so, she acquiesced. She could see the relief flood Ichabod’s body as she figured he needed both time away from Katrina and time with Abbie. Her sister wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. There would be plenty of time for them to connect.

“Sure.” Katrina turned with a nod and headed out the door without so much as a backward glance. As Jenny walked past Ichabod, she had one last thing to add.

“I know that you care about my sister, more than probably even you do but know this: you are as much at fault for her pain as anyone else. If I come back here and she’s broken again or there is a single hair on her head out of place, no deity in the pantheon of gods will save you from my wrath.”

“Miss Jenny?”

“I’m tired of your words and broken promises hurting my sister. Get your shit together and figure out what you want.” With that, Jenny walked out the door leaving Ichabod alone with her words hanging in the air, his thoughts, and a fragile Abbie in the room down the hall.

Miss Jenny was right of course. He did care for the lieutenant. He’d cared for her from the moment she had rescued him and helped him in this new world. What took him much longer to realize was while he clung to the idea and notion of the marriage he once had, he had been steadily falling in love with the woman by his side.

He didn’t plan on going back into her room; he didn’t want to disturb her. He also didn’t want her waking up thinking that she was alone again. He hadn’t planned on climbing into bed with her either but as he pushed her door open, he took in the sight of her still sleeping soundly, curled on her side, her face partially shielded by her hands. It was enough to make every fiber of his being pull taught with expectation.

Shirking his coat and boots, he climbed in gingerly pulling her hand into his and kissing her knuckles. She stirred and then settled, sighing deeply. He breathed her in and settled himself to be there for her when she awoke and every other minute thereafter.

*          *          *

The car ride was silent. Katrina offered nothing in terms of conversation nor did Jenny. What could be said? _Sorry your sister nearly died because I convinced my husband to spare our soulless son? It must suck that your husband thinks you’re a lying and manipulative person and is love with my sister?_

Conversation wouldn’t have mattered much anyway. Katrina wouldn’t have taken part. She didn’t register anything as Jenny drove her back to the cabin. It was as if everything was now devoid of color. There was no life, no animation beyond her window; time and everything contained within it had ceased. The fissure that had opened within her continued to widen – spilling a cold darkness within her that even the now moonless night sky could not match.

She knew she should fight it. She knew that as the leader of the Coven of the Sacred Heart, her duty should be to help prevent the apocalypse in any incarnation and yet she found she no longer cared. The Mills sisters may have disregarded her emotional connection to Henry or challenged her abilities, but they weren’t the only ones suffering. They weren’t the only ones hurt.

She had been raised to be demure and understanding. She tried to be a forthright and independent woman while maintaining decorum and tact. In this world, in this time, these things no longer mattered. As strange as everything was to her, she was glad some of the more stringent customs placed on women were gone. She was free to express herself in this time and she would soon let it all out.

“Katrina, did you hear me?” Jenny tapped on her shoulder. “We’re here.”

“Sorry, I was lost in thought. Thank you Miss Jenny.” Katrina made to exit the car when Jenny’s words halted her.

“For what it’s worth, I appreciate everything you’ve done to try and help my sister. I know it probably doesn’t mean much to you now, and it may not ever, but I am appreciative.”

She could have smiled. She could have said something, anything to this woman. She could have nodded; instead she hopped out of the rickety pick up and headed into the cabin. With each step, she felt the light abandon her, leaving a hollow cavity that needed to be filled. Opening the door, everything she saw reminded her of him until she looked closer.

There was a small leather jacket draped across a chair in the corner. A small bag of toiletries and cosmetics sat on the shelf beneath the coffee table. A picture of Ichabod smiling in a way she hadn’t seen in centuries sat atop the mantle. The smile was aimed at Lieutenant Mills. She knew she shouldn’t be angry at the Witness for doing what she had failed to do and yet, that picture and the evidence of Abbie’s constant presence in Ichabod’s life was enough to erase any trace of the previous Katrina from her being.

Shadows seem to rise from the nooks and crannies of the cabin. Nefarious whispers skated across her skin, beckoning her to their whim. The chasm within her was slowly filling with an ancient evil even she couldn’t name. _Why fight it?_ She thought. She welcomed the presence, basking in ability to play host to someone, something that needed her.

_Together, we will feast on the flesh of those that challenge our reign. We will bring death and destruction to all that is good and light in the world._

*          *          *

Abbie felt a soft passing breeze on her face and something warm and soft caressed her hand. A small smile graced her full mouth when she took in the scents: pine, leather and musk filled her senses. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know that he was there. He had promised to stay with her and it was a promise – unlike so many others – that he had kept.

“How are you feeling lieutenant?”

She opened her eyes then. How was she feeling? She didn’t know. The worst of the torment had passed but she still felt incomplete – as if there was a part of her missing. The fleeting smile left her lips as she looked at her partner.

His face looked thinner and wearier that she thought she’d ever seen it. His ice blue eyes were shimmering with unshed tears and worry lines were etched into his brow. She took her free hand and tried to smooth them away. His eyes fluttered closed and a sigh escaped his lips as if he had been holding his breath for this moment.

It wasn’t the right time for this. There were too many things left unsaid between them; there was too much that they needed to address but in this moment, there was just raw need. Her hand moved from his brow to stoke his beard as she pulled his face to hers.

She brushed her lips tentatively against his trying to gauge his response. He reacted in kind opening his mouth to hers, daring to taste her lips with his tongue. Even after all she had been through, she tasted of cinnamon and honey. His body moved of its own accord, pulling her into him and burying his hands in her hair. She wasn’t close enough to him.

Abbie’s hands tugged furiously at the bottom of Ichabod’s shirt, pulling it free from his pants. She ran her hands up his torso, feeling his muscles clench beneath her finger tips. As she ran her nails through his chest hair and across his nipples, Crane’s breathing hitched and his eyes shot open clouding over in a lustful haze.

Ichabod flipped Abbie over, settling himself between her legs; his arousal straining even further as he felt her heat against the front of his pants. Their mouths sought each other out, hungry to be filled. Abbie’s hands made quick work of both Ichabod’s shirt and hers, removing her bra in the process.

As frantic a pace as they set for themselves, Ichabod took a moment to lavish each of Abbie’s nipples with long tongue strokes. He suckled each one as if they and the raw moans issuing from Abbie’s throat were giving him life. Abbie buried her hand in his hair urging him further down her body.

He let his tongue roam down her body, stopping only to nip at the line where her hips met her waist band. He wanted to worship her, wanted to savor her but her couldn’t. Not here. Not now. He unclasped her pants and yanked them down tossing them to the side. Without preamble, he plunged two fingers into her dripping, silky core.

“Ahhh…” Abbie bucked against his hand, trying to drive him deeper. She sat up, desperately trying to free him from his pants while still riding his fingers. She managed to pull his pants down enough to take a firm grasp of his cock – stoking him furiously in time to each finger thrust.

Ichabod could feel himself teetering towards the edge but he’d be damned if he let himself go before burying himself inside Abbie. He took his fingers away to remove the last vestiges of clothing but before he could, Abbie grabbed his hand and slowly sucked the fingers he had just removed.

The rough strangled sound that emendated from Ichabod’s throat was the last straw. He was positive that Abbie was trying to break him. _Pants be damned!_ He thought to himself. Grabbing her waist, he hoisted Abbie onto his lap, reaching between them to place his cock at her entrance. A deep moan escaped her lips as Ichabod thrust without warning, impaling her to his hilt.

She leaned back, bracing her hands on the bed behind her so that he could see all of her. As he pumped, she rolled her hips to meet him. One hand roamed up her form, twisting and teasing each nipple to a point while his other sought its way to the apex between them. He took no quarter, rubbing her clit with firm aggression. Had his free hand not pulled her toward him, Abbie would have lost the battle of balance and fallen back on the bed.

She wrapped her legs tight around his waist and her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his loose and sweaty hair; his finger never leaving her as she shifted position. He could feel her walls beginning to clench around him, dragging any sanity and reason he had left from his mind. The only things that filled him now was the sight of Abbie in the throes of her orgasm, the scents of jasmine, Earth and Shea that wafted from her skin, and the co-mingled sounds of them climaxing together.

Their foreheads touched, both of them panting and barely able to move except for the small trembling in Abbie’s legs. With what little strength he had remaining, Ichabod palmed Abbie’s behind, lifting her just enough to allow him to fall away from her and lean her back on the bed. He collapsed in a heap next to her, trapping one of her legs between his.

They each lay there trying to catch their breath and absorb the gigantic shift in their relationship. Abbie was always focused on the mission. _Matters of the heart always complicated things._ She knew that and had told him so herself, but with Ichabod it was different. As if he could sense where her thoughts were going, he turned his head toward her.

She watched as he entwined their fingers together and stoked her hand with his thumb. When she turned to look at him, it was with a sigh and a smile. Lives – especially their lives – were too short to brush off the connection that they shared. Reasonable, hardnosed, dedicated Abbie let go of it all and embraced whatever it was to come. Keeping their hands linked between them, she curled into Ichabod’s side and drifted back off into a satiated sleep.

 

 


	5. Declarations and Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a much shorter chapter than before. I wanted to clean up and clear up the matter of Ichabbie as a 'thing' before I moved forward. More to come soon!

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Jenny had opened her sister’s bedroom door expecting to find Crane holding vigil until Abbie woke up or talking to her, trying to comfort her. She had given Abbie and Crane the rest of the night together to grieve, commiserate and talk about where they stood. She had not expected to find them naked with their limbs and various other body parts entwined around each other, sucking each other’s faces off when she came back the next morning.

“Jenny!”

“Miss Jenny!” Abbie and Crane both scrambled for anything that may cover them. Ichabod went as far and to roll off of the bed and crouch down so none of his parts could be seen. Abbie simply grabbed her pillow to cover herself and glared at her sister.

“Christ, Jenny. Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

Jenny just stared and smirked at her sister. She knew this was coming eventually, she just hadn’t expected it to be right after they had all nearly lost their lives and Ichabod had _just_ dumped his wife. She turned her eyes to Crane and raised an eyebrow. “So much for “not a single hair out of place” huh?”

“Miss Jenny, there’s a perfectly good explanation…”

“You know what? I don’t even want to know, so you can just save it _Ichy_. We have bigger problems to deal with than you fucking my sister.” Jenny walked over to Abbie’s dresser, pulled out a shirt, a pair of underwear, and some pants to chuck at her sister. “Something’s up. Get dressed – both of you.”

Jenny turned on her heels and headed toward the living room, leaving the door wide open. Abbie tossed her pillow to the side and began to dress while Crane kept his crouched position next to the bed. “What are you doing? Get dressed.”

“Miss Jenny has seen us - me, in the most intimate of situations. How could I possibly face her now, even with my clothes on?” Abbie looked at him with a mixture of annoyance, sympathy, and affection. He had blanched to the point of translucency when Jenny walked in on them and yet, his entire face was flushed. Abbie knew it was from embarrassment but she couldn’t help think that part of it was the remnants of their most recent union.

It had admittedly been a long time since Abbie had any sort of romantic entanglement. No romance equaled no sex. Sure, she took care of business when she needed to blow off steam, but she never realized how much she had missed being with another person until now. And while her past lovers, Luke included, had all been perfectly adequate in the love making department, she’d never experienced the kind of intense and ardent explorations that Crane had bestowed upon her – so far three times in the last twelve hours.

His mouth had covered virtually every square inch of her skin. His hands roamed her planes like explorers hungry for adventure and new discovery. He wouldn’t see himself satisfied until he was sure that he had ripped ever last moan, sigh and quiver from her body. It was passionate. It was breathtaking. It was the best sex she may have ever had in her life.

“Abbie? Are you alright?” She had gotten so lost in the memories of their unions that her breath had grown shallow and she had forgotten what she was saying.

“I’m fine, and don’t worry about Jenny. She’ll give us a hard time because that’s what she does, but I highly doubt she’ll think any less of you. Now get dressed and meet us in the living room.” Abbie walked out, closing the door behind her, leaving Ichabod to dress.

Jenny side-eyed her sister as she walked towards her. She couldn’t help but smirk at the lustful deer in headlights look on Abbie’s face. “I gotta say Crane is far more skilled…and endowed than I ever thought he’d be.”

Abbie sat next to her on the couch. “I have a gun. I will shoot you.”

“I have several guns and years’ worth of pent-up crazy in me. I’ll outshoot you.”

Abbie glared while Jenny continued to smirk. “All joking aside. I’m happy for you but please, be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Okay?” Abbie couldn’t be mad at her sister. With all of their history and everything going on, the last thing she wanted or needed was a wedge to grow between them again. She softened her expression and gave her a curt nod.

“So, what’s this ‘something’ that’s up?”

“I was reading sections of Grace Dixon’s journal last night and found a passage that referred to what she called ‘The Trial of the Oracle’.”

“Is this passage in reference to the Oracle at Delphi?” Ichabod asked as he emerged from the bedroom. He had finally managed to get himself dressed. Though he was specifically avoiding Jenny’s eyes, he still tried to carry an air of dignity as he entered the room.

“Glad to see you upright, Ichy.” The red of embarrassment crept back over his face. At the same time as he gave her a look of pure disdain, Abbie smacked Jenny in the arm. “Cut it out, Jenny.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry” she added sincerely to Ichabod. “No more puns about your buns.”

“Jenny!” Abbie was in full on assault mode now, but it made no never mind to Jenny. Seeing Ichabod in such a state of distress over something as natural as jesting about sex was enough to make her forget the darkness that had taken over their lives. Ichabod watched the exchange with a mixture of irritation, embarrassment, and affection. He knew he had to get over Miss Jenny’s good natured ribbing. If he planned on staying in Abbie’s life, which he did whole heartedly, he was going to be subjected to this kind of sisterly kinship for a very long time.

With his back rigid and his hands clasped behind his back, Ichabod sought to put an end to this once and for all. “Mock if you will Miss Jenny. It does not hide the fact that you care not just for your sister and her happiness, but mine as well. Endeavor to disconcert me as much as you like. It will not sway my opinion of you nor my affections for your sister.”

His speech had its desired effects, stopping both Mills sisters mid spat. Jenny looked at Ichabod with appreciation. Abbie looked at him eyes filled with adoration and if he wasn’t mistaken, a decent amount of lust. He arched his brow with a half-smile and walked over to the free chair by the couch, both sets of eyes on him as he moved. “Now, what is this trial of the Oracle Grace Dixon spoke of?

 


	6. And So it Begins...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I promise not to as you say make eyes at your sister.” The smile vanished as he took on a serious tone. “I highly doubt that the situation would call for it. We need to be prepared for anything.” With a deep sigh and a nod of the head, they all exited the car and began to follow the trail Jenny had marked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to add. I've been exceptionally busy as of late
> 
> I don't own Sleepy Hollow or any of the characters therein

Abbie clutched the wheel of her Jeep as it crept down a barely visible dirt road somewhere in the Taconic Mountains. A fine mist like rain had settled over the region, casting a haunting green glow to the surrounding scene. It was well past noon by the time they had gotten started. The closer they got to this supposed mystical convergence zone and the later in the day it got, the deeper the sense of unease grew within her. She pulled the vehicle to a stop when it was obvious by the giant tree blocking them, that this was the end of the road.

“Are you sure this is where we’re supposed to be Jenny?”

Jenny consulted the journal in the back seat and then compared it to the map she had brought with her. “The passage says _“In the mountain meadow of two rivers, surrounded by trees, the Oracle breathes.”_ Mount Raimer is the only mountain in this area that fits the bill; both the Hoosic and Hudson Rivers flow around it and at its summit is a meadow flanked by trees.”

Abbie turned her attention toward Ichabod, who had been unusually quiet throughout the ride. Casting a side glance, he smiled. “It appears we’ll have to hike from here. Are you ready lieutenant?” She saw he was putting on a brave face but she knew he was as apprehensive as she was. After all, even if it had an alluring name, the Trial of the Oracle didn’t sound like it would be all rainbows and kittens.

“I am if you are.”

Rolling her eyes and making a gagging noise, Jenny kicked the back of Abbie’s seat. “Ugh. If you two are going to make eyes and grope at each other the rest of today, I’ll stay with the car and clean my gun.” A knowing smile passed between Abbie and Ichabod before he spoke.

“I promise not to as you say _make eyes_ at your sister.” The smile vanished as he took on a serious tone. “I highly doubt that the situation would call for it. We need to be prepared for anything.” With a deep sigh and a nod of the head, they all exited the car and began to follow the trail Jenny had marked out.

*          *          *

Katrina woke up bathed in sweat on the floor before the fire place. She had no recollection of falling asleep let alone how she got home. The last thing she remembered was Ichabod embracing a sobbing Abbie. Everything after that was a disjointed. She vaguely remembered hearing a thundering roar but beyond that her memory failed her.

Looking around her, everything seemed to be in the same positions as they had before she’d left with Ichabod and Miss Jenny. Something wasn’t right. She couldn’t place it, but she was determined to figure it out. She may not be able to see what was going on, but she could certainly find a way to uncover her lost memories. Rising, she headed to the kitchen knowing that Ichabod kept a bevy of herbs and teas in his home.

Rifling through his cabinets, she found sage, rosemary and green tea leaves. Everything was processed and dried, but it was better than nothing. Preparing a tincture of the leaves with a small amount of water, she drained the liquid contents leaving just rough patterns in the leaves. Closing her eyes, she called upon the forces of nature to guide her in her reading.

A swirl of warm energy coursed through her body lifting her crimson hair in swells that brushed against her face like a gentle caress. When the waves hit her finger tips, she opened her eyes and leaned over the cup to gaze at the memories that had left her. She expected the moistened leaves to display images of the day; flashes of Ichabod, Miss Mills and Miss Jenny. Instead, she saw a dark chasm streaked with red.

Crawling up its side was a gnarled black creature whose talons scrapped the walls with a piercing sound, its eyes glowing a deeper shade of red than her hair and whose fang-filled mouth dripped with blood. Jaggedly it moved ever closer to Katrina, keeping her transfixed in horror and it called to her.

_Release me Hellfire Shard. Release me so that we may feast on the blood of the damned._

The spirit’s words reached a void within her and tried to pull her under but she refused to be taken. Breaking off the spell, Katrina hurled the cup against the wall, shattering the connection to the evil that dwelled within her mind. She was being slowly consumed by a harbinger of death. She tried calling Ichabod, then Miss Mills but neither answered. Grabbing a coat to fend off the weather, Katrina marched out to pay a visit to the one person who would know what was after her, who would have answers for her: the horseman of death.

*          *          *

“Jenny, I swear to God if you picked out the wrong trail and we’ve been hiking in the wrong direction for hours, I will hurt you.” Abbie was tired. She was soaked through, covered in mud up to her knees, and oh so tired. Though it was a relatively warm spring day, the rain added a chill to the air the higher up they climbed. They’d been walking up the side of Mount Raimer for over two hours now and saw no sign of a meadow. They had however walked over, into, around and underneath trees.

She imagined Ichabod looked so nonplussed because he dealt with conditions like this constantly during the Revolutionary War. His ability to soldier on as it were only added to her irritation. “Chill, Abbie. We’re almost at the summit.” Jenny consulted her map once more making sure they were indeed on the right path. “Keep your eyes peeled. Something tells me there will be some kind of wards up.”

“Agreed Miss Jenny. If this is indeed Pythia, the fabled Oracle at Delphi, we should be prepared for a test of character prior to discovering her location.”

“A test of character?” Abbie asked laughing. “Like what is your name, rank and serial number?”

Ichabod took in the sheen of sweat and rain that had coated Abbie’s skin, adding a soft, dew kissed glow to her that he longed to bask in. Her smile, as fleeting as it was, was enough to warm him through his damp clothing. He watched her as she moved, taking in how her hips swayed with each step.

“Remember when you promised that you wouldn’t make eyes at my sister? I will leave you two here. I am not kidding.” Ichabod turned to smile at Jenny until he saw the look on her face and thought better of it. “Forgive me Miss Jenny. I shall keep my eyes firmly affixed forward from now on.”

Snorting at the exchange and thankful that Jenny hadn’t caught her staring at Crane’s ass every time he walked in front of her, Abbie pressed on. “You were saying about some test?”

“Yes, of course. On the entrance walls of the temple that house the Oracle were the words “Know thyself” and “Nothing in excess”. It was believed, though there was debate among scholars, that the Oracle would not grant divine information unto supplicants unless they went in with a pure heart, a clear conscience and a lack of hubris.”

A tall row of trees in what appeared to be a perfect circle stood before them. A small archway made up of laurel leaves revealed an otherwise empty meadow on its other side. They each stopped and stared steeling themselves for whatever stood behind the trees. “So in other words, don’t be an ass and we should be all set?” No sooner than the words had left Jenny’s lips that she was flung back by an unseen force, knocking her to the ground.

“Jenny!”

“Miss Jenny!”

Jenny lay on the ground stunned and winded, but otherwise unhurt. Abbie rushed over to her helping her to sit up. “Are you okay?” She shook her head, trying to clear her vision that wavered slightly. “If it’s alright with you two, I think I’ll just sit this one out.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, this prophecy is for the two Witnesses.” Jenny smirked at her sister. “I’m sure you’ll fill me in on the details later. Go, I’ll be fine.” Leaving Jenny behind, Ichabod and Abbie once again approached the tree line. Clasping hands, they walked forward through the archway and found themselves in a temple. There they saw a woman seemingly floating and bathed in light before them – eyes closed and long golden hair flowing freely over her shoulders.

They both stared in awe not knowing whether to move forward or what to say. Ichabod’s hand held fast and tight to Abbie’s as if he was trying to anchor himself in realty. When at last he went to speak, the Oracle’s eyes snapped open and her voice drifted ethereally through the space around them.

 _“Darkness seeks a home within a shattered vessel. It courts Death. Their union will cause the ground to bleed and they will feast upon the souls of the damned. You will perish not, if the vessel meets its end.”_  
The prophecy echoed through their bones, vibrating with truth and urgency. They barely had a chance to question what it meant or who the vessel was, before the image in front of them changed. They were no longer in the temple but back into the empty meadow and night had fallen.

Jenny was calling out there names, seemingly searching for them. They could see her and her flashlight through the archway but she couldn’t see them. Walking through to her, she yelped in surprise when they showed up.

“Six hours! You disappeared for six hours!” Jenny looked wild eyed and frantic as Abbie wrapped her arms around her. She glanced at Crane over Jenny’s shoulder. It was obvious that they were thinking the same thing. They had been gone no more than five minutes. Clearly, time worked a bit differently for the supernatural. “That better have been one hell of a trip.”

“You have no idea. Let’s get back to the car. We’ll tell you about it on the way.”

*          *          *

Katrina pushed back the hood of her coat as she stood before the headless horseman in chains. She pulled the enchanted necklace from her pocket and affixed it around her neck so that she may speak with him. When his face came into vision, a knot grew deep within her belly. A sinister smile was attached to his lips; it was a smile that suggested he was aware of something that she was not.

“You’ve heard her calls haven’t you? It’s why you’ve come to me – to seek the answers that you foolishly try to hide from.” She wanted to bite back at him. She wanted to deny his claim but she couldn’t. She had heard someone calling to her – pulling her down into a darkness she was unlikely ever to escape from.

“What…what is it that is trying to take hold of me?”

“The Letum Tenebrae – the shadows of death. I may not have been successful in binding you to me but it matters not. Soon, you will willingly call me your beloved as we bring a never ending tide of death and darkness to this world and rein as the new King and Queen of Hell.”

Katrina shook her head, unwilling to believe what Abraham was saying. She was unwilling and yet each word struck a low and haunting chord inside her. “I will fight this evil within me.”

“And you will lose. It won’t be long now. Your precious Ichabod and his Witness won’t be able to save you this time.” Katrina ripped the bauble from around her neck, crushing it beneath her foot. “They may not be able to save me, but I will save myself even if it costs me my life.” Turning abruptly on her heels, she marched away from Death, determined to find a way to escape her grim fate.


End file.
